


All I Want To Get Is A Little Bit Closer

by mcpofife



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 09:23:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1221049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcpofife/pseuds/mcpofife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry works in a bakery and is obsessed with the fit guy who works at the toy shop down the street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want To Get Is A Little Bit Closer

Harry wasn’t sure when the fittest bloke he’d ever seen started working at the toy shop down the road from the bakery where Harry worked. All he knew was that he’d caught his first glimpse of him nine days ago on the tube. 

That first day, they made eye contact five humiliating times, because Harry kept getting caught trying to discreetly check him out. He’d blushed slightly the first time he was caught, and by the fifth time, he felt like his face was about to burst into flames. The guy didn’t even try to hide his amusement; blatantly staring and smirking as Harry shrunk down into his jacket like an awkward turtle. For some reason, he couldn’t help himself. There was something addicting about having the guy’s attention; something that made it feel intimate and friendly, like Harry’s embarrassment was a joke they were sharing. 

Three days later, Harry saw him on the tube again. That time, he had on a pair of headphones and his eyes were closed. He looked a bit rumpled and tired, not unusual for a uni student on a Monday afternoon. Harry assumed he was one, anyway, because he carried a rucksack and looked around Harry’s age. He took full advantage of the opportunity to stare at the guy, moving to a better vantage point and storing away every little detail: perfectly-styled brown hair, skin so smooth and tan it practically glowed, and incredible eyelashes. His body was a bewildering juxtaposition of lean muscle and curves. Harry hadn’t even realised someone could look like that, so strong and soft at the same time. The way the guy’s t-shirt stretched over his biceps and clung to his abdomen made Harry feel a bit lightheaded. He’d never wanted to touch someone so much in his life. 

Two days passed, and he spotted him walking into the toy shop. Was it sad that Harry recognised the back of the guy’s head from half a block away? Probably. Was it sad that the guy was walking with another guy, and it made Harry’s insides burn with envy? Definitely. The other guy was pale and podgy, but he was making the fit guy laugh, and maybe the podgy one was hilarious and clever and they were deeply in love. 

The next day, Harry saw the fit guy walking down the road with an attractive girl. This time _he_ was making _her_ laugh. He was probably hilarious and clever, too, and so were all his friends. Maybe he was straight and the girl was pregnant with his child and they would run away to Paris to elope and Harry would never see him again. 

Two days after that, the ninth day, Harry saw him on the tube alone. He’d been driving himself (and his friends and co-workers) mad obsessing over a complete stranger; he had to make a move. He smiled at the guy, making sure to angle his face to show off his dimples. The guy smiled back immediately, and _dear god_ , what a smile. If Harry had thought the guy’s light blue eyes were gorgeous, he was completely blown away by how they turned into adorable crescents framed with laugh lines. He was still debating working his way over to get close enough to talk when they arrived at their stop. He tried to keep track of him as they alighted from the train, but the guy was pretty short and he lost him in the crowd. 

Just as Harry was walking into work, he spotted him on the other side of the road and a fair bit away, glancing over his shoulder. Harry stopped short in the doorway of the bakery and lifted his hand to wave. The guy stopped short, too, and waved back. 

“There you are, Harry,” his boss called out. “Be a love and check on the mince pies for me?” 

“Yeah, I—” He hesitated, biting his lip, and resisted the urge to dart across the road. Mince pies waited for no man. Despite wishing they’d been able to meet properly, he was still thrilled by what little progress he’d made, and hummed corny love songs to himself as he shed his jacket, put on an apron, and pulled the pies out of the oven. 

He was two hours into his shift when the guy suddenly appeared outside of the shop. The entire storefront was glass, all the better to attract customers to the baked goods, and he had his hands cupped around his forehead as he peered inside. When he saw Harry, he beckoned to him. Harry immediately stumbled around the counter and rushed to stand in front of the guy, who was pulling stuff out of his pockets. 

Harry waited patiently, too excited to question why they were standing on either side of a window when there was a perfectly fine door only a few feet away. He watched curiously as the guy made use of the items he’d taken from his pockets: a roll of tape and a folded sheet of paper. He carefully smoothed out the paper and taped it to the glass. It was a handwritten note that said: 

**Hi my name is Louis. Will you marry me? If yes, give me a chocolate chip biscuit to prove your love. If no, give me 2.**

**P.S. if you say no I will cry and wipe my tears with the biscuits**

There was a rather poor drawing of a man crying into what Harry assumed were meant to be chocolate chip biscuits, but looked more like pepperoni pizzas. 

He wasted no time going back behind the counter to bag a half dozen biscuits, careful to only include one with chocolate chips. He couldn’t tame his grin; he could feel how wide and goofy it stretched across his face, but he didn’t care. He went to the door and pushed it open, and he was breathless from how wonderful this moment was, and how the guy was even more fit up close. 

“Those biscuits look like pizzas,” he blurted. 

“How dare you,” the guy said. He was grinning up at Harry, and he was all the more perfect now that he had a name and a voice and now that Harry’s suspicion that the guy, _Louis_ , had a brilliant sense of humour was confirmed. 

“Here,” he said, handing him the bag. 

Louis frowned. “This feels awfully heavy for one biscuit.” 

“Only one chocolate chip,” Harry assured him. “The rest are bribes so that you’ll let me take you to dinner tonight.” 

Louis made a show of opening the bag to squint at and sniff its contents. Seemingly satisfied, he said, “Meet you here at nine?” 

Nine. Harry’s new lucky number. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Louis echoed, nodding once. “Well, I better get back to work.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Harry said. “I mean, I’m at work, but…” 

Louis laughed, and Harry bit his lip. 

“So, are you going to at least tell me your name before I go?” Louis said. 

“Oh, right! Yeah, of course. I’m Harry,” he said. 

“Hi Harry,” Louis said. 

They were still grinning, and Harry didn’t think he’d be able to stop anytime within the next decade or so. They said their goodbyes, and he stood and stared shamelessly as Louis walked back to the toy shop. Every time Louis looked back at him, they’d wave again, until finally he disappeared into the shop. 

Harry carefully peeled the note off of the glass, refolded it, and stowed it away in his jacket pocket. His boss, who’d heard plenty about the fit guy on the tube during the past nine days, made fun of him for the rest of his shift, but he didn’t mind. At a quarter til nine, she said, “Oh, go on then,” and he kissed her cheek gratefully. He had plenty of time to wash up and try to make himself look presentable before Louis arrived. 

Ten minutes after nine o’clock, Louis was in front of the shop again, and Harry joined him. 

“Those biscuits were delicious. I should chat up boys who work in bakeries more often,” was the first thing Louis said. 

“We’ve only been engaged for a few hours and you’re already planning to cheat on me,” Harry said, shaking his head in disapproval. “I want my engagement biscuit back.” 

“That’s long gone, my friend,” Louis said. “Along with all your bribes, and you still owe me dinner. Too bad for you.” 

“I need some pepperoni pizzas to cry into,” Harry said, and Louis punched him lightly in the side, making him squawk and grab his wrist to stop him. Louis made no attempt to pull away, so Harry slid his hand down from Louis’ wrist to entwine their fingers. They walked toward the tube, swinging their joined hands between them. 

“Honestly, I could go for a pizza,” Louis said. “Minus the tears.” 

“Only if you promise not to chat up any other bakery boys,” Harry bargained. 

“No deal,” Louis said, and laughed when Harry squeezed his hand hard as punishment. “Okay, okay! Deal. I won’t chat up any other boys, bakery or otherwise. At least until after dinner.” 

“I’ll take what I can get,” Harry said. “But what you don’t realise is that I’m going to take you to this little place I know that serves the best pizza in town. And I’m going to blindfold you once we’re on the tube, so that you have no idea how to get their on your own, and you’ll be forced to let me take you out every time you want to eat there.” 

“That is an impressive plan,” Louis said. “But what _you_ don’t realise is that I have X-ray vision, so I’ll be able to see through the blindfold. And I can see through your clothes right now, which is the only reason I’m putting up with all your nonsense.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped and he used his free hand to cover his groin. 

“It’s too late; I’ve seen everything,” Louis told him. “Why do you think I proposed in the first place?” 

Harry sighed. “And here I thought it was love at first sight.” 

“Oh, it was,” Louis said, wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously. 

Harry laughed loudly and clapped his hand over his mouth. They made their way onto the tube, sitting down together with their hands still clasped between them. As the doors shut and the train started to move, Harry thought about how many people took the tube each day. How many people lived in this city, in this country, in this world. Out of billions of people, he was the only one holding hands with Louis on the way to buy him pizza. He pitied every last one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> randomly wrote this silly little thing tonight... I suddenly imagined Louis asking Harry out with a dumb note like a little kid and how much Harry would love it. He'd be buried with that note (-_-) He'd get the drawing of cartoon Louis crying into pepperoni pizzas tattooed on him hahaha
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>   ****DO NOT repost this fic anywhere for any reason. PLEASE ASK BEFORE TRANSLATING this or any of my fics. Thank you x**
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> Translations:
> 
> [ **Polish**](http://faithinthelastsunrise.tumblr.com/post/83435432445), translated by **Alex**
> 
> [ **Spanish**](http://traduccioneslarrystylinson.tumblr.com/post/89481608927/all-i-want-get-is-a-little-bit-closer-one-shot), translated by **Abdi**


End file.
